


Mayday

by IceColdIgnorance



Category: GOT7
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Eating Disorders, Emptiness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicide Attempt, mentions of eating disorders, relatively happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 16:11:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceColdIgnorance/pseuds/IceColdIgnorance
Summary: Mark had lost everything. His girlfriend had left him for some pothead, his boss fired him, he didn’t have enough money to pay off his rent and his mother had died unexpectedly from a heart attack. So why didn’t he just end it all?





	Mayday

**Author's Note:**

> When I first heard Mayday by Got7, I thought of something like this and after weeks of procrastination, I finally wrote it out! It gets a bit rushed at the end, but then again, I'm not very good with endings.

_[Mayday](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItgsAFHzpcc) _

 

Silence was sickening. Mark hated it. He’d always been soft-spoken, but he needed human interaction to function properly. In short, he didn’t like being alone. He sat, leaned against the wall of his apartment, cigarette shaking in his trembling fingers. He hadn’t lit it yet; He might if he felt like it. But right now he didn’t feel like it. Throwing the unlit cigarette to side, Mark pushed himself off the wall to stand. A dull pain settled in the lower half of his spine from leaning against the wall in an unnatural position.

As he stood, his vision went black for half a second and he stumbled against the wall again, knees almost giving way. An emptiness grew in his stomach as he limped along the hallway, clutching the wall for support with scrabbling fingers. He had forgotten when he had last ate, but then again, his memory was as spotty as his vision.

Money was scarce and even if he could afford something, like ramen, he wouldn’t be able to actually cook it as his electricity went out a couple days ago.

His living room was illuminated by the dull orange sun setting light poking through the binds on his singular window. Collapsing onto the couch, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. He rarely felt this exhausted, but the lack of food combined with the amount of tears shed in a day sucked out his energy like a vampire. His ribs were clearly visible as his white shirt settled on his reclined body, his hip bones jutting out like a starved animal’s. His cheeks felt sunken in, the ripped jeans that were once tight on against his limbs were loose and baggy.

Feeling a rush of self pity, Mark sat up abruptly, instantly regretting it as his vision went spotty once again. Using the coffee table and the arm of the couch as supports, Mark dragged himself to his feet and stumbled to the front door where he picked up a bomber jacket with trembling fingers to warm his stick thin body.

Mark was extremely skinny before he lost most of his money and happiness, but now he was simply skin and bones.

Fumbling with the door knob, Mark cursed with a scratchy voice that was barely recognizable as he weakly pulled open the door. He had to get out the apartment. It was bringing back memories that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

The steps where he and his ex girlfriend would kiss each other goodnight, the flickering light that Mark stood under when he got the call from his father, the small drops of blood from where Mark came home injured after getting into a fight with his ex girlfriend's new boyfriend. Some things shouldn’t remain, but they do.

Mark left his apartment building in a rush, barely keeping his balance as he stumbled over his own feet. His apartment was close to a bridge, a tall, large bridge. A vile taste filled his throat, yet he kept pushing forward.

Once he had reached the highest point of the bridge, Mark looked down at the shimmering water. The sun had nearly disappeared and all the remained of the fiery ball was a sliver of burning orange across the horizon. It was beautiful, the way the clouds reflected with puffy bursts of purple, blue, orange and gold light, shimmering like gold and gems in the sky.

“What a nice evening,” Mark murmured, painfully aware of the lack of people and cars. Looking down, he noticed a small sailboat with a busying figure floating around, ducking out and under and out and under the bridge. Weaving in and out, almost. The lone figure seemed to be having difficulty controlling as winds danced through the air. Mark let out a soft hum and looked to his left and then right. Empty. Taking a shaky breath, Mark pulled himself onto the railing that separated the water and the edge. He sat with his back to the water, the horizon, so that when he fell, he’d see the clouds, the beauty just out of reach. He thought of his mother suffering, his boss yelling in his face, his ex girlfriend’s sour face, the landlord’s sickening note and lastly, his own sorry self. He was a piece of worthless trash. The world would be better without him. So he leaned back, a sob escaping his lips as his stomach flipped, the bridge falling away before the hard water hit his back and everything went black.

Jinyoung had been observing the man leaning against the railing before he turned to see the man jumping from the bridge. The anchor slipped out his hands into the water and he dove into the water, panic swamping his body. What if he was dead?

Jinyoung dove underneath the waves, arms flailing as he struggled to find the man in the murky water, bubbles from the man’s impact make the job harder. Jinyoung’s fingers found a skinny wrist and he yanked, opening his eyes underwater for the first time. The man was completely stunning, but in a horrible way. He was limp, his clothes floating from his thin frame and his brown hair softly floated around his face, strands brushing his cheeks. Jinyoung yanked, pulled the man to the surface, taking a gasp of air as he desperately kicked to get to his sailboat.

The man was sickeningly light as Jinyoung pushed him onto the boat before dragging himself up.

Thinking fast, Jinyoung discarded the bomber jacket and pressed an ear against his chest for a heartbeat. Nothing. Jinyoung took a deep breath and tilted the man’s chin up so he could perform cpr. Pinching the man’s nose, Jinyoung quickly pressed his mouth against the man’s before pulling away and crossing his own hands. With fingers intertwined, Jinyoung pressed into the man’s chest with thirty strong presses, body trembling as wind pierced his wet frame.

After three more rounds of the continuous action, the man let out a shaky breath. Jinyoung almost passed out from relief, but knew that he had take this man to the nearest hospital for further treatment. Jinyoung dialed the police’s number into his phone as he pulled at his sails, guiding his boat to the side of the river.

Jinyoung set his phone down once all the information had been transferred, tying his boat to a post before picking up the man to take him to the land. An ambulance had just arrived and the paramedics gratefully took the man from Jinyoung’s arms. Jinyoung told them the exact details, dejectedly heading back to his boat. He rummaged through his storage for a towel, almost immediately noticing a small white corner peeking from the pocket of the forgotten bomber jacket. Jinyoung curiously pulled at it, his eyes widening when he realized it was an id. He had to take this to the hospital. He glanced down at the name on the card. Mark Tuan.

The hospital took the card, thanking him and let him visit Mark, after stating that all his family was in America, not Korea.

Mark, the man that had jumped, was pitiful. Jinyoung saw him hooked up to multiple machines and his appearance wasn’t any better. The nurse there explained that he had multiple health issues from not eating, not taking care of himself, but it could be fixed easily. Mark was awake when Jinyoung finally peeked through the curtains. Mark glanced at him, then looked at the nurse, confused.

“Mark, this is the man who saved your life.” The nurse turned as someone called for her, leaving Mark and Jinyoung alone. The silence was so loud, it roared into their ears until Mark spoke.

“Thank you.” Mark’s hoarse, rattling voice almost making Jinyoung flinch.

“It’s nothing,” Jinyoung tried to protest, but Mark quickly fired back.

“It’s something, you saved me from a regretful decision. Once I am released, let me treat you. Please.” Jinyoung shook his head, biting his lip.

“I could never… It’s really nothing, nothing.” Jinyoung turned to look away as Mark’s piercing eyes burned into him.

“Please, I don’t have anyone else,” Jinyoung froze where he was standing, “Besides, I don’t even know your name.” Jinyoung peered at him.

“I’m Park Jinyoung.” Mark tried to sit up but winced in pain.

“Jinyoung,” Mark shivered as the name rolled off his tongue, he liked the name in his own mouth, “How can I repay you?” Jinyoung’s eyes widened at the persistence of the man.

“You don’t need to, I was just doing what any rational person would do.” Mark snorted.

“I’m American-Taiwanese, no in Korea would risk their own life for me,” Mark spat bitterly. Jinyoung let out an angry hiss.

“Don’t degrade yourself like that, you’re hurting yourself more,” Mark opened his mouth to retort but Jinyoung beat him to it, “Emotionally. I’m not letting you treat me just because of a simple action.” Mark let out an angry huff, pushing himself up in the hospital bed, ignoring the nagging pain in his back and ribs.

“Honestly, I think you’re an idiot. ‘Simple action’ my ass. You saved my life, you could’ve left me. You jumped into the water to revive me, you risked your life for me. I could’ve dragged you down to the bottom of the river and we would’ve both died. Understand me, alright?” Jinyoung took in a shaky breath, averting his gaze from Mark’s piercing one.

“Alright then.”

Two weeks of recovery later and Mark was back on his feet. Literally, not emotionally. Mark was wringing his hands together, trying to figure how to word his request. The woman with the quiet child moved from the line in front of him and he stepped forwards towards the receptionist. She had sleek black hair pulled back into a tight bun on the back of her head and horn rimmed glasses.

“How can I help you?” Mark took a deep breath.

“Can I have the address of Park Jinyoung?”

“Birthdate?” Mark inwardly cursed.

“I don’t that, yet, but he’s a bit taller than me and he has black hair and dark eyes? And he was in here about 2 weeks ago to give a report about the man that attempted suicide.” The receptionist nodded, typing away on her computer.

“What is your relation with Mr. Park? I cannot give away his personal information without knowing you have a close relation with him.” The receptionist stared at him over her glasses, a annoyed glint in her eyes.

“Well… He saved my life, but he left me in the hospital room without giving me any contact information and I wanted to repay him. I mean, he saved my life…” The receptionist straightened her neck, so her eyes were even with her glasses.

“I take it you’re the man that jumped off the bridge?” Mark nodded, his eyes trained to the ground. An unsettling feeling settled in his stomach as the woman wrote the address of his riverside home on a slip of paper. Mark thanked her and hastily escaped the hospital.

It took about an hour for Mark to make it to Jinyoung’s home, but once he was there, he felt the urge to turn around and hide. He had never really felt nervous about seeing people; In fact, he shouldn’t be nervous at all. Jinyoung saved his life after all.

He slowly walked up the steps and stared at the door. It was wooden with a small window that was level with Mark’s eyes. There was a knocker and a doorbell, Mark opted for the doorbell. The loud bell sounded, scaring Mark half to death. There was a couple seconds of silence before the door flew open. Jinyoung stood there, looking slightly disheveled with his hair messy and white shirt wrinkled. He was wearing sweatpants and mentioned wrinkled white shirt. In other words, he didn’t seem aware that’d he be receiving guests.

“Mark…?” His eyes widened slightly as Mark took a step forward.

“I wanted to repay you… For everything. For saving my life.” Jinyoung bit his lip, looking torn. Jinyoung gestured for him to come in, before guiding him into a sparklingly clean living room and pressing him down into the couch.

“I-I can’t do that… It’s wrong, I told you. You shouldn’t need to repay me for saving your life, it’s an action that goes unpaid.” Jinyoung’s voice had been rising steadily faster until he was shouting. Seeing, how Mark flinched, he quieted.

“I can’t sit around and let you go along with life. _You saved my life_ , that’s a big deal and you’re acting like it isn’t.” Jinyoung rubbed his forehead, unable to think of an argument. He sighed, his shoulders dropping as he sat down next to Mark.

“You can repay me. By telling me about your life before you jumped off that bridge.” Mark stiffened, but relaxed when he saw Jinyoung’s comforting gaze out of the corner of his eye. Mark turned on the couch so he was facing Jinyoung, shuffling around to find a comfortable position.

“Alright, I guess. This might take awhile…” Jinyoung smiled warmly, a look that suited his face so well. His eyes crinkled together in the most happy way and his lips curled outwards slightly. Mark took a deep breath and spoke, relaxed in the warm atmosphere.

So Mark poured out his life to Jinyoung. He told him about his childhood in America, about his friends that were always a bit off, but nice nonetheless. He spoke about his middle school days, when he realized that he was changing, mentally, as his body was changing physically, and that’s when he realized his sexuality. In high school, he exposed his hopes and dreams, telling the tale of his ever changing plan for the future. His parents would always smile and laugh when he’d change his mind about it; He yearned for his mother’s comforting smile after he changed his mind. He told about how he dropped out of university to move to Korea after a day’s worth of decision making. He spoke of his good life and how it crumbled piece by piece. His voice trembled as he spoke about his depression and how it had taken over his life. And when he decided to end it all.

Mark finished, only realizing he was crying until a single tear drop fell from his eye onto his clammy palm. Jinyoung laid his hand on Mark’s own, his mind still processing the information that had been passed to him. Mark felt a hand gently pull his chin up from where it was vertical to the ground.

“Please don’t cry.” Jinyoung’s voice was shaking, but Mark scarcely noticed.

“Sorry,” Mark muttered, using his sweater sleeve to wipe his tears.

“Don’t be. You may think you’re alone, you have no family, no lover, no friends in Korea, but you have me. My arms are always open for you.” Mark didn’t know if he was talking about figuratively or literally, but Mark assumed he meant both.

Sniffling, Mark gave Jinyoung a watery smile as Jinyoung stood.

“I’ll make us tea, come if you like.” Mark nodded numbly, trudging after Jinyoung. He body felt too big, his insides felt hollow, he felt raw and emotionless. Jinyoung set a small pot on the stove before dumping water and tea bags in, turning on the stove.

“Thank you, Jinyoung.” Jinyoung looked up at Mark, giving him his signature smile that warmed Mark in the strangest way.

“I’m just doing what I can to help you. If you have any problems, just come to me.” Mark looked into Jinyoung’s dark orbs and saw the nervousness. He was letting a stranger put all their trust into him, if they have any problems to come to him. It was a lot of responsibility, and Mark could see right through his smiley disguise.

“Well,” Mark started, looking away, “My landlord is probably prepared to kick me out as soon as I set foot into the apartment building, so I don’t have anywhere to go.” Jinyoung’s head shot up from where he was stirring the tea.

“Are you implying you want to stay with me?” Jinyoung questioned, confused as to why anyone would want to live with him.

“Maybe,” Mark said shyly, looking away after stealing a quick glance at a very confused Jinyoung. Jinyoung straightened his back, gathering two cups.

“You could move in, you would just have to get to know me first. Dinner on me tonight.” Mark looked absolutely delighted, but Jinyoung had his back turned so he couldn’t see the bright light on the once dim face of Mark Tuan.

* * *

It had been a week already and Mark was fully moved in. Jinyoung planned to help Mark get back on his feet and take a big bite of the apple of life. Jinyoung was shoving job opportunities at him left and right, not like Mark didn’t mind, it was just a tad overwhelming.

“You can’t live with me forever,” Jinyoung huffed as Mark shot down another job opportunity, “You gotta get your own place soon enough.” Mark rolled his eyes at Jinyoung who was pouting at him over his cup of coffee.

“I’m talking with a girl about a job at a library, relax.” Jinyoung just about shrieked.

“You got a job without telling me?! How rude! You’re supposed to tell me these things..!” Mark let him rant before turning to him.

“I’m capable of doing things on my own, you know. I’m not hopeless.” Jinyoung bit his lip, uncertain.

“But, you’re fragile. I just don’t want you to find something you can’t do.” Mark snorted, taking a gulp of scalding coffee.

“I think I can shelve books without dying, Jinyoung.”

* * *

Jinyoung and Mark were on a walk. Jinyoung had decided he was tired of Mark being cooped up in the house and library where he worked. They had been walking for hours, shivering as cold winds swept over them. They just wandered in silence, not an uncomfortable silence, a comfortable one that reassured each other that were wanted, but they wanted to be quiet and think for a moment. When they reached a bridge, a certain bridge, Mark snatched Jinyoung’s hand, frozen where he stood, memories flooding back to him. Jinyoung noticed his uneasiness, dragging him out of the main sidewalk and into a small alleyway.

“Are you alright? Mark answer me.” Jinyoung’s anxious voice snapped Mark out of his trance and he nodded, unsure of his true feelings. Jinyoung quickly held Mark’s hand and pulled him forward, onto the main sidewalk and towards the bridge.

The air was cool, not too unbearable, but it still cast shivers across those who chose to go outside. Jinyoung hummed softly, breaking the silence that had settled around them. Mark bundled up to him, cold and unhappy.

“Can we go home?” Mark murmured into Jinyoung’s ear and he nodded, promptly dragging him home.

* * *

They had gotten into another argument. About Mark’s future. Again. Jinyoung hissed curses and slammed his bedroom door while Mark fumed about downstairs. Separate, they felt a pang of loneliness. They were always together, even when they fought. Without each other, it felt empty, like how Mark felt when Jinyoung used to leave him for work. They relied on each other, they needed each other. When one needed to cry, the other had a shoulder ready. When one was going through a hard day, the other was prepared to hug them and comfort them, listen to their troubles. They wanted each other. They _needed_ each other.

* * *

It was a warm morning, as it usually was in the summer. Jinyoung was adjusting some ropes on his sailboat, muttering darkly underneath his breath when he heard footsteps on the wooden boards that made up the dock. Jinyoung wiped a bead of sweat from his brow to see Mark standing over him, hair still messy from bed.

“Mornin’.” Mark grinned, sitting down in front of the black haired man. Jinyoung gave him a brief smile before returning to what he was doing.

“So… I wanted to talk to you about something.” Jinyoung’s head snapped up at his uncertain tone of voice.

“Alright.” Jinyoung set the rope and straightened his back, looking Mark in eyes. They were wide and panicked, almost scared. Why was Mark afraid of Jinyoung?

“I’ve been thinking… I think I, I like you more than a friend. More than that, much more. I really like you,” Mark stammered, glancing up to see the expression on Jinyoung’s face, “I’m sorry if the feeling is not mutual,” Mark’s voice trailed off, a flush rising in his cheeks. Jinyoung sat, back hunched, jaw wide open. Jinyoung closed his mouth and gulped, looking up at Mark.

“But the feeling is mutual, so you have nothing to worry about.” Mark’s head shot up in confusion to see Jinyoung’s face centimeters from his own. A hand wrapped around Mark’s nape, pulling him before lips pressed against his own. Mark was frozen in shock before responding, moving his lips in rhythm with Jinyoung’s. They parted, breathless, but insanely happy.

* * *

 Jinyoung loved Mark and Mark loved Jinyoung. At first, the emptiness in Mark had remained, gnawing on his insides, eating him from the inside out. Jinyoung urged him to see a therapist and Mark complied. The emptiness faded after years and years and in those years Mark and Jinyoung went to LA to get married, seeing Mark’s father after years of no contact. They were happy.

 

All was well.


End file.
